


Two ghosts in the mirror

by amyNY



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: And some alcohol, Angst and Feels, F/M, Finally, Gen, Marvel - Freeform, Season 3, Skyeward - Freeform, midesason finale spoilers, skye and ward talk about things, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-22
Updated: 2016-07-22
Packaged: 2018-07-26 00:51:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7553851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amyNY/pseuds/amyNY
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>547 days after her initial offer Ward and Skye finally have that talk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two ghosts in the mirror

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hiddendaisy1821](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hiddendaisy1821/gifts).



> I have been a fan of SW and the show for quite a while now but have never thought of writing for it as there are so many wonderful fic way better than mine out there. But then it was hiddendaisy1821’s birthday and this happened, finished in a day, my first SW fic. My way of saying goodbye to my OTP I guess.

The way their week was going (or a year really) today was a pretty quiet day at the office by Shield standards. There were no immediate apocalypse threats to stop, Inhumans to look for or bad guys to contain. Must be the summer lull or something. But then again their last mission left them all a little worse for wear and not even Hunter was whining about being bored for once.

Instead he was in the kitchen clearly trying to suffocate them all if the amount of smoke coming from the room was any indication. She could hear muffled chatter coming from the room and some coursing followed by a few very loud ‘Bloody Hells!’ spoken in a very irritated British accent. 

She laughed – Hunter did have a knack for saving the day at the same time he was destroying it. Or make you smile even when it’s the last thing you feel like doing. Bobby obviously agreed if the laughter coming from the room was any indication.

“I am glad my near death experience brings you so much joy Bob.” Hunter was saying inside and she moved on, not wanting to disturb the moment.

Further down the hallway Fitz and Simmons were restlessly working in the lab (or at least trying/pretending to what with all the glances and ‘accidental’ hand- grazing and smiling at samples of human kidneys). It would be disturbing if it wasn’t so damn endearing. 

She was glad her friends were safe. A little battered and bruised but there with her. Still the thought didn’t bring her as much comfort as she believed it would. Maybe it was the lone wolf side of her that never let her fill that void completely.

There was one place she would go in situations like this one, one door she would knock on for comfort. Yet today her hand hovered over the glass but the knock never came. Instead she turned around and walked further down the hallway, her feet carrying her to the one quieter corner of the HQ, a place she’s become an expert in ignoring as of late – the basement.

A couple of steps down she stops, takes in the room bathed in the dim light, pausing at one particular part. Suddenly weary she sits down on a random step, leaning her back to the wall so she still has the full view of the room. 

She sits down hesitantly, dreading this meeting, this conversation way more than she did a few years ago when she walked in the Shield base as a stranger and come face to face with one of their top agents. Mr Grant 007 Ward.

A small laugh breaks the heavy silence in the room as she remembers all the antics and jokes Fitz and Jemma pulled on that account. Even herself. She thought she knew it all, was so sure she had him all figured out... And now almost three years after the fact she could admit she knew nothing at all.

"Kind of hard to imagine...you and me sharing the same space again with no yelling or throwing heavy objects." his voice brought her back to the present.

"Yet here we are..." Daisy said, feeling unusually sentimental. She blamed the tiredness and his equally out of character soft voice.

"Never did take you up on that drink offer..."

It took her a moment to remember what he was talking about. A longer than that actually. Didn’t even occur to her how many of these things she’s forgotten, buried under a million bad things that happened since that night on the Bus. Him sitting at the bar and her hand just reaching for his, and the words...

‘If you need to talk, I’m here.’

It was not something she did often. Reach out. Being on her own for so long gets to you. Being independent and able to take care of herself was something she took pride in for so long, and really it just came with the territory, as did the guarded attitude masked with sarcastic responses and cool demeanor. Most of the time.

But there were days when Skye felt like he looked that evening and there was no one to lend a helping hand. That’s why she offered and he naturally refused. Honestly, she'd do the same - you can't cure years of reclusive behavior, messed up childhoods and all that good stuff with one sentence and a comforting hand. The years of training to keep emotions in check, to keep the truth hidden and then he comes to her with a promise to never lie to her. A little too late (they were always a little too late).

"Don't think Coulson would approve of the drinks anyway…” he says with a laugh.

“Didn’t think you cared about his opinion anyway.” she countered, surprised a little at his words.

“Still at this point it would probably be sprinkled with arson. Now that he would definitely approve of.” Ward commented with a sigh before adding “It’s not the happy hour anyway.”

“It is somewhere.” she muttered to herself mostly, kind of regretting not grabbing the old bottle of Johnny D from Coulson secret stash. 

“Either way… Wouldn’t want to keep you for too long. I’m sure you have more pleasant things to do then indulge your-” he paused then, and she did too.

What were they anyway? Co-workers at the start, frenemies more like it. And then friends later on. And after that the line blurs, bit never quite defines...two lost souls, kindred spirits, and two sides of the same coin... Enemies? 

Ward cleared his throat, uncharacteristically uncertain for once and corrected himself “-to indulge me. Then again I think we’re well past sob childhood story retelling for sympathy’s sake… poor abandoned teenager caught in the claws of a bad father figure...nothing we haven’t all heard before.” he said.

“Redemption was never my path to take. Because when I was stuck at that detention center it wasn’t Shield or my brother that pulled me out. It was Garret. That’s just how it was.”

Where would they be now if it was the other way around? If Garrett took her under his wing and Ward somehow ended up with Coulson? Would their roles be reversed?

She wasn’t much of a what-ifs type of person…never was. There was no time for that between thinking where she’d sleep that night or what she’ll eat in the morning. Ward had the similar way of thinking and she knew exactly where that came from.

“But those are the stories for little children. You end I know better than that, don’t we Skye?” he asked, his voice getting that low, dangerous quality. “Besides…I owe you more then that.”

“I told you once I will never lie to you... and maybe that’s all I can give you now. The truth.” he went on as she just listened. “And that’s one right there.” A pause. “I could tell you a few more, like that the Fitzsimmons shipwreck was never my plan, it was the only way out with the time I had and I took it. And you getting shot by Quinn… That was NEVER… I would never… still you all chose to believe what you wanted to… It’s true what they say, this world needs its villains as much as it needs its heroes Skye. What would Shield be without Hydra, Cap without the Red Scull… Ward without Skye?”

…Or Skye without Ward? She wondered that herself since the day the truth of his true loyalties hit her like a hurricane, shattering the ground beneath her feet with one word, but instead of answering that question she buried it altogether with Skye. It was Daisy Johnson now. The SHIELD agent extraordinaire. Top marks in combat, field work. (Sounds familiar? A little voice asked but she firmly ignored it.) 

Speaking of which…she really wished he’d stop calling her that. That wasn’t her name anymore, wasn’t her life. Or so she told herself. Many, many times over.

‘What’s your name?’

She shook her head to rid of the memory. It was a work in process still and her voice in her head was not helping.

“Well- now I believe it’s really way past happy hour. But sitting here with a possible no return ticket to an alien desert like planet in hand makes a man think.” he said with a chuckle. “And act like a total sap.”

“Time to go and prepare for the mission.” he said. “Life of an agent. No time for a break.”

“You know- growing up, both Christian and I were all about exploring, making the forest behind our house our hunting ground. Not Thomas. He loved the beach and the heat. I hated it, the warmth, and the way the sand stuck between your toes... And then for his fifth birthday mom made us take him to the beach, together with plastic buckets and a few bucks for ice cream. He ended up with chocolate smeared all over his face and I ended up helping him fix a washed away castle and even Christian stepped in mumbling something about the symmetry of the windows or something trying to fix the mess we’ve made as we laughed.. I don’t know what I remembered that now…but yea it was a good day.”

She tries to imagine it, the three of them at the beach goofing around, Ward laughing. It was harder then she thought… when was the last time she heard him laugh?

“I guess in a way, you were that break I never got.” he confessed “You were that day on the beach.”

547 days after her initial offer Ward and Skye finally have that talk at the place where it all began. Sadly with no alcohol and no games.

540 days after Skye's offer Grant Ward dies on Maveth, heart crushed by his former superior officer Phil Coulson.

"You didn’t even say goodbye.” she said quietly, almost in a whisper, afraid someone might hear her even in this stupid sound proof basement. But there is no one there, not even the person those words are meant for.

Maybe that was her destiny, forever saying things to ghosts, never getting a chance for closure. With her mom and then Hank and now…

"Goodbye Skye." Ward said and it took hearing those words from her greatest enemy now and once a friend (and maybe more) for the dam to break, for it to finally hit her like a ton of bricks. Because she wasn’t only saying goodbye to Ward but also to Skye, the person she once was. The tears fell and she did nothing to stop them.

A scratching noise of a tape recorder coming to an end brought Daisy back to reality.

With the slightest hint of hesitation, she pressed the small red button on that Dictaphone letting the silence settle in the room once again, getting on her feet and going to the back room storage to grab that 1978 bottle of JD before proceeding to her room.

Coulson owed her at least that much.

(the end)


End file.
